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Alive!

Bone Palace UK
I am, I swear. I even survived Run For Your Lives with matociquala on Saturday, despite it being 28 degrees (F) out, and me having a raging sinus infection.

I will have News soon, on both the writing and personal fronts, but for now I am biding my time and VagueBooking. I was going to haul out the first lines meme tonight, but I am le tired, and must open a bookstore in the morning.

--30--

Trouble
"Snakebit"

Words today: 532
Words total: 6680
Reason for stopping: THE END
Darling: THE END

It is a draft with many drafty problems, but I have finished a short story! It's been a year and a half since this happened, and I was starting to disbelieve in the possibility.

Now it's time to dig through the more folders and see if there's anything else that wants to be finished.

Me and my team of ultimate badasses

Sif

Today I and a team of bookstore cohorts attended Run For Your Lives, the 5k zombie obstacle course. Obstacles included vaulting logs; crawling under fences and barbed wire; not one but two steep, muddy inclines (one of which was covered in thorns); a muddy, swaying balance beam; sucking mud pits; hurdle walls; a smoke house filled with dangling live wires... And, of course, lots and lots of zombies.

I made it through all the obstacles, never lost a shoe, and only nearly twisted my ankle once. I also made it more than two miles in before a bastard zombie in a Christmas elf costume swiped my last flag. I was, however, the next-to-last man standing in my team. We got one person to the finish line with a flag intact, so in that regard we were successful.

This was the most fun I've ever had at a run, and the most exhausted I've ever been after. Not to mention filthy. I'm talking epic filth here. I'm also very proud of myself, even if I am succumbing to the zombie infection even as I type.

Your brains

Xenomorph
This is just to say that in 24 hours I will be queueing up to run from zombies. I am rather excited about this. I bought fancy socks for the mud run and everything. My immediate goal after survival is avoiding debilitating injury, as Sunday night is Deathrock Disco.

I don't have a zombie icon. This is sad and slightly embarrassing.

For want of a post...

Dark City
Err, hello. I am being part of the lack-of-LJ problem again. I've even slacked off on spamming with workout stats. But Run For Your Lives is this Saturday, so maybe that will be worth an update! (I ran another 5k on Sunday, and finally beat 5 mph. So progress is happening.)

Are there any memes going around worth doing, to keep some semblance of activity happening here?

Valkyrie Report: undead edition

Valkyrie Air
Sunday: 8 hours dayjob.
Monday: 1 hour yoga, climbing.
Tuesday: Weights. I added 5 pounds to my dead lift and subtracted 5 pounds from my pull-up assist. I also did Bulgarian split squats, even though we hates them, precious. 4 hours dayjob.
Wednesday: Sloth and more sloth.
Thursday: 4 hours dayjob.
Friday: 1.5 miles jogging. I actually jogged the whole way, with no walking intervals. This is amazing. 4 hours dayjob, but at least 1.5 of those hours were spent trying to catch a stray dog who was running around our parking lot. (We eventually succeeded.)
Saturday: Zombie obstacle course. This was not the grand Run For Your Lives event that I'm training for, but a local gym's knock off loving homage. The trail was longer (at least 4 miles, if not 4.5), but there were fewer zombies, fewer obstacles, and no mud. Obstacles included wheelbarrows and/or dragging our partners, carrying a 15 lb bag of sand* for 3/4ths of the way, zombie target practice, and carrying an additional load of bricks and a 2x4 the final leg. We didn't win, but neither were we last, and most importantly, I didn't die.**


* Supposedly we were carrying food to the safe zone. I think there would have been more pathos in having to transport flour-sack babies to the safe zone. And the babies might not have bled sand down my bra.

** I outran all the zombies. I learned later that my partner got tagged, but didn't tell anyone. So we would have eventually gone on to infect the safe zone and destroy the last attempt at saving humanity. Score!
Conscious
Today I sent the final* draft of Dreams of Shreds & Tatters to arcaedia. Selling the damn thing may be a new nightmare, but it will be one that is mostly out of my hands. There is suddenly a book-shaped hole in my life. And since there's no pressing need to kill myself over D2 until I know the fate of D1, this means I get to cruise the city looking for sexy novels to have torrid flings with. Maybe Salvage wants to tell me more about its alien scientists and speedboat chases.


In other news, I will be at Monster-Con on Saturday, October 13th. I'll be signing books dressed as a fish monster. As one does.


In other, other news, I hope to participate in Run For Your Lives on December 13th. This depends on me getting the day off work, since large contingent from my bookstore wants to go, but I'm going to start training for a 5k anyway. December is the best possible time to run 5k. This means I have to abandon my beloved elliptical tomorrow in favor of the dreaded treadmill.


On Friday I made a last minute decision to go see TKK after work, and am glad I did so. It wasn't like seeing them 12 years ago, but the show was fun and the venue pleasantly small, and Groovie was ambulatory the whole time. And they played "After The Flesh," which I'm been waiting to hear live since I first saw The Crow. And in an added bonus, my recent love affair with the elliptical means that I can now wear the striped tights which are the custom of my people without looking like a hobbit.


And on that note, I'm off to the gym.


* Yes, I know. There will be a revision for an editor, copy edits, and proofs. Let me cling to my delusion for a time.

C is for cosmetics

Bone Palace UK
IMG_0228 by Amanda Downum
IMG_0228, a photo by Amanda Downum on Flickr.

Also for cop out, because this is kind of a lame post, but I have to work today, so it's what you get.

As promised, zombification pictures. I may or may not be wearing any makeup in the first one.

Corn syrup really holds hair in place, I discovered. Sadly, the bloody bite on my arm (not shown) kept catching on my dress when I danced, and most of the blood flaked off. And because I opted for a subtler zombie look, it was mostly invisible in the club.

The depressing part is, the zombie makeup was more flattering than the understated stuff I usually wear.

B is for baby bats

Baby bats
B is for baby bats, because tonight is zombie night at Exquisite Corpse, which means I get to dress up extra. I was a late blooming baby bat--I didn't learn the term "goth" (as opposed to Ostro- or Visi-) until I was seventeen and started college, despite years of watching vampire movies and wearing black. I also discovered VLARP my freshman year, which doubled the tragedy of crushed velvet and cobwebs on my temples. And then I discovered Hot Topic. I won't lie, readers: those were a grim few years.

My love of dark clubs, loud music, and dressing up hasn't faded in the past fifteen years. Luckily, my fashion sense and taste in alcohol have mostly improved.

B is also for blood, because it's compulsory, and because I need to mix some up for extra undead verisimilitude. Pictures may follow, if the gods of photography are kind to me.

In the meantime, enjoy a sampling of the music of my people.





When she dealt the cards I dealt my heart

Trouble
I would worry about the goth points lost by owning a George Strait song, but it's a George Strait song from a vampire movie, so I think that's okay.

"Snakebit"
Words today: 2,000
Words total: 3,400
Reason for stopping: end of scene
Darling: The rain had stopped but low clouds slid across the sky, snagging against the distant silhouettes of grain elevators. Sodium lamps glazed wet asphalt with light the color of marigolds.
Mean things: Bad news, bad memories, not being happy with the things you think you should.

Apparently the dream was true: this story is much closer to finished now. It didn't hurt that I spent a lot of valuable research time googling pictures of Lance Henriksen.

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